


Might As Well Be the Sun

by Flarrow



Series: Of Night and Day [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Canon, Fluff, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Romance, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-22 08:25:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 16,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3721972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flarrow/pseuds/Flarrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of flufftastic observations made of Oliver and Barry's relationship by several different characters from <i>The Flash</i> and <i>Arrow</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Felicity Smoak

**Author's Note:**

> There is just not enough Flarrow/Olivarry in the world. This is me writing them on withdrawal.

It had been a bit of a tough pill to swallow at first. Just because she was glad to see that Oliver was finally willing to open his heart and let someone in, did not mean that she hadn't experienced any difficulties in accepting that the person Oliver chose was not her, even if she did also love Barry Allen to pieces. This was something she and Barry's childhood friend Iris ended up slowly bonding over, and now, it was pretty safe to say that the two women had become the best of friends.

“ _Cheers_ ,” Iris said, snapping Felicity out of her reverie as their wine glasses clinked together.

The two of them were at some fancy restaurant that Oliver had some connections to. The two teams were unofficially celebrating their most recent combined victory against a metahuman that had been wreaking havoc in Starling City.

Felicity hoped her smile didn't appear as tight as it felt as she sipped a bit of wine from her glass. “Cheers.”

Iris gave her one of her famous side glances with a smile; a facial expression that Felicity noticed at some point that she shared with Barry. She had seen Barry give it to Oliver at least once or twice. Usually when he found something Oliver did to be endearing. Iris though, Felicity knew, was doing it more out of a mixture between curiosity and concern.

“Something on your mind?” Iris asked.

Felicity shook her head. “No, nothing.”

She relaxed a little when Iris didn't reply at first, but she should have known better. Soon the reporter was at Felicity's side, their shoulders lightly brushing against each other. From the corner of her eye, Felicity could see Iris staring straight ahead, wearing a pensive expression and with her lips resting against the edge of her glass. Felicity followed her gaze and let out a small breath through her nose upon observing what she was pretty sure Iris was looking at. Barry was laughing about something as usual, his back pressed comfortably against Oliver's chest, the older man gently threading his fingers through the younger man's hair in a rare moment of public affection and wearing an equally surprising expression of fondness clear on his face.

So taken was she with that moment that she almost didn't catch the reporter's quiet words. “They look so happy, don't they?”

Felicity blinked and turned her head towards Iris, her lips quirking in a small half-smile which the other woman mirrored upon meeting the blonde's gaze.

“Mm...” she hummed in agreement before turning to look at the two men again.

They were turned towards each other now, Barry and Oliver, and Felicity would be lying if she said she didn't feel a little twist in her gut upon seeing how easy it seemed for Oliver to want to wrap his arms around Barry and bring the other man so close that their noses were practically touching as they continued to laugh over _something_. She couldn't be all that mad though, she supposed. After all, she had to admit that Barry seemed to have a talent for somehow managing to crack through even the toughest of barriers; the hardest of hearts, and it was always with the best of intentions. It was hard to fault someone so kind and loving; something that she had to acknowledge that Oliver had been so desperately needing.

“Still though, you have to admit, it's almost unfair...” she whispered, not quite expecting the other woman to hear.

She knew Iris had caught onto what she'd said though, because shortly thereafter, the response came in the form of a soft chuckle beside her.


	2. Iris West

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Gasps* Kudos and subscriptions already?! People are actually enjoying this story?? *Breathes out a sigh of relief* Well, that's incredibly reassuring. Thank you!!
> 
> (In other news...it really is nice to have an alternate username to hide behind. I think this may be the best decision I've made in a while... *eyes the ridiculous number of unfinished stories on the "main" account* Meep...!)

In one of many possible timelines—once Barry had figured out how to travel back in time in the first place, it became hard to really say which thread could be considered the “original” one—Iris had realized that she did actually love Barry after all, and she had confessed her love. Had Barry not found a way to travel back in time in the first place, and furthermore, once having traveled back in time, had he not deviated from the original course of events as he had known them, who knows how differently the future between them could have actually played out.

The fact of the matter though, was that Barry—this particular one, anyway— _had_ traveled back in time, and he _had_ gone ahead and changed the course of events from the timeline he had known. Those changes had slowly but surely changed the trajectory of his relationships, and not necessarily in ways that people would expect. As Eobard Thawne, under the guise of Harrison Wells, warned him, even when changing the outcome of certain events, fate would still find a way to “right” itself, though it wouldn't necessarily do so in the same way as it had in an earlier go-round.

As a prime example of this, one only needed to look at the fact that Iris once again discovered her deeply buried feelings for Barry in a moment of heightened emotions, though the manner in which she experienced those emotions was considerably different than the previous context. Instead of impending doom playing as the trigger, it was a scenario quite similar to one she had already experienced before, when Barry had briefly dated her co-worker, Linda Park. Only this time, not only did Barry change in his gender preferences for a partner, he ended up somehow finding himself in a relationship with Oliver-fucking-Queen.

Initially, she hadn't really picked up on any of the signs. After all, she couldn't find something obvious if she didn't realize that there was even a possibility of something happening in the first place. As far as she knew, Oliver was just a typical rich playboy who made regular appearances in just about every celebrity tabloid known to man, and when he finally did start making regular appearances in Barry's life, she had no reason to interpret any of the reactions between the two men as anything other than playful and platonic brotherly camaraderie.

It wasn't until she happened to catch them by chance, arguing heatedly over something in the evidence room, clearly believing themselves to be alone, that she realized the true nature of the relationship between the two men. She hadn't actually meant to eavesdrop, not at first, but Iris being who she was, she hadn't been able to suppress her curiosity, and so she had hidden herself behind a row of evidence, peeking through the gap between a couple boxes. She could see Oliver, whose arms were crossed over his chest, his face twisted in a disapproving expression as he stared straight at Barry, who was glaring back at the older man with his turned to a wall.

“ _Really, Barry. How many times do I have to tell you not to go running into trouble headfirst without a plan?”_

Iris raised an eyebrow as Oliver snapped, wondering at what Barry must have done to evoke the older man's ire. Barry made an irritated clicking sound with his tongue as he shook his head in annoyance.

“ _Look_ ,” he said. “I got away fine, didn't I? Got the job done and made it out of there without a scratch. Perks of being the fastest man alive, you know?”

Iris felt her eyebrow quirk upward upon hearing this. She wondered if she was actually hearing what she thought she had heard.

Her thoughts were briefly interrupted when Oliver growled, his tone laced with warning. “Don't get all cocky now, kid.”

“And don't forget that _I_ saved _your ass_ last night,” Barry snipped, jabbing a finger against Oliver's chest. “The least you could do is show a little gratitude. Do you think you and your arrows alone could have fended off those explosive projectiles?”

Oliver shook his head in disapproval. “That's not the point, Barry!”

“Really?” Barry said, his voice starting to rise a little. “Well then enlighten me, _Ollie_. What _is_ the point that you're trying to make?”

It would take a few more minutes for Iris to absorb and make sense of this sudden influx of unexpected information, and she was ill-prepared for the older man's sudden movement as he rushed Barry, forcing the younger man to close the gap between himself and the wall behind him. When Oliver smacked his hands down hard against the patch of wall on either side of Oliver's head, Iris nearly jumped out of her skin at about the same time as she heard Barry take in a sharp breath of surprise. She saw Oliver lean in towards Barry, bringing their faces dangerously close together. Barry's throat tensed and relaxed as he gulped involuntarily. There was just a long enough stretch of silence for Iris to digest at least some of what had been said.

“ _The way they're talking, you'd think they were...”_ Iris thought to herself. _“No...! Could they be...?”_

Her thoughts were interrupted when she saw Oliver close his eyes and press his forehead against Barry's, and Iris immediately felt her cheeks grow warm, not entirely sure she knew what she was watching anymore. Barry seemed as shocked as she felt, because when he spoke again, he couldn't help but stutter.

“H-hey...wh-what are you doing...?”

Oliver growled through grit teeth. “Why can't you understand...? I just _can't lose you_...!”

Then the older man crushed his lips against Barry's so fast that the younger man only had time to let out a muffled yelp, brows furrowing together in confusion at first before he succumbed to the passionate kiss. Iris felt her eyes widen and a hand involuntarily fly up to cover her mouth as she took a couple staggering steps backward. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. Without thinking, she turned around and charged out of the evidence room, paying no mind to the fact that her heels were clacking against the tiled floor as she made her abrupt exit.

Behind her, both men quickly broke away from the fiery kiss, breathing heavily. They simultaneously looked in the direction where Iris had been hiding behind the boxes, and then back to each other.

“Shit,” Barry hissed. “I think someone else was in here.”

Oliver nodded in agreement, his lips pursed. “How much do you suppose they heard...?”

Barry shook his head. “I don't know...” he said with a sigh. “And if I'm going to be completely honest, I'm almost afraid to find out.”

“Well, it won't do us any good to stay in here,” Oliver said as he tilted his head towards the exit. “Come on.  Let's go.”

Meanwhile, Iris had rushed out of the evidence room only to run right into her father. Joe caught his daughter by the shoulders, looking down at her in surprise.

“Whoa! Iris!” he said. “What is it? What's wrong?”

“Oh! Dad!” Iris said, pushing back from her father and slapping on what could only be interpreted as the most exaggerated of smiles. “Nothing...! Just realized I needed to go do some more research on that story about...that _thing_.”

Joe eyed his daughter curiously. “That...thing?”

“Yes!” Iris said, nodding enthusiastically before giving her father a quick peck on the cheek. “ _Exactly_.  Love you, bye!”

Joe watched his daughter power walk out of the precinct, a bewildered expression on his face. When he turned back around, he saw Barry and Oliver sprint out from wherever they had been in pretty much the same fashion as Iris had. When Joe placed his hands on his hips, Barry stopped right in front of him and flashed his adoptive father a nervous smile.

“Oh, uh...hey, Joe!”

Joe raised an eyebrow. “Hey, Barry...listen, would you mind telling me what exactly is going on around here?”

“Going on?” Barry squeaked. “W-what do you mean? N-nothing's going on, Joe.”

“Really,” Joe said, not even bothering to hide the disbelief in his voice. He used a thumb to point behind himself. “Because I just ran into Iris, and she certainly didn't seem as if 'nothing' was happening...”

The fact that Barry and Oliver both winced and exchanged a quick look between themselves was not a detail that went missed by the detective. He placed the hand he had moved back onto his hip.

“Well, son? You wouldn't happen to know anything about that now, would you?” he asked.

“Ooh, _that_...” Barry said, looking back at Joe with a slight grimace. “Okay. Okay, well, actually, there may be _something_...”

Joe felt his eyebrow arch a bit higher at that.


	3. John Diggle

John Diggle had always been the pretty perceptive sort, especially when it came to certain things about Oliver. His innate precision for detail was probably only further enhanced by the training he had received throughout his military career, and his confidence in reading Oliver probably came from having spent so much time around the man.

So when he noticed that Oliver's gloomy posture would change and his expression would brighten ever so slightly—that only a trained eye knowing what to look for could really catch it—Diggle spent some time trying to figure out the common denominator. It hadn't taken him long, per se. It had just taken him a while to confirm that his suspicions were right in the first place.

He noticed that every time Barry Allen came around, Oliver would relax a little more, and take jokes a lot easier. Whenever they had a slow day in Starling, the Arrow would keep his eyes and ears open for any suspicious activity happening in Central City; for any news of the Flash. He could sense the tension whenever Oliver felt like he might not be able to get to Barry in time; he could tell when the other man felt restless in those occasional moments where Central City happened to be quiet.

What really confirmed it for him though, that Barry was the source of Oliver's on-and-off state of agitation, was when Barry had come around to the “Arrow Cave” one day to drop off some results that Felicity had requested. Diggle could sense the agitation permeating off of Oliver as he tried his best not to bother the pair. It was only after Barry and Felicity had left the room to fetch something and Oliver's eyes lingered for a considerable moment on the doorway where they had disappeared that Diggle finally decided to say something.

“Maybe you should talk to him about it.”

To his credit, he didn't chuckle when Oliver's head snapped up in surprise. The Vigilante cleared his throat. “Sorry...what?”

Diggle nonchalantly shrugged a shoulder. “The kid,” he said. “Talk to him.”

He kept his lips from twitching upward into a small smile when Oliver narrowed his eyes. “I...can't say I know what you're talking about.”

This time, Diggle didn't hold back his amusement and he chuckled softly as he shook his head. “There's nothing wrong with _feeling_ , Oliver. And for the record, the kid cares about your opinion just about as much as you do his.”

Then Diggle turned and stepped out of the room himself, leaving Oliver to do what he has always done best—brood and contemplate over what the ex-soldier could have possibly meant by his unsolicited pearls of wisdom.


	4. Caitlin Snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A Quick Disclaimer :** I do _not_ own the lyrics to this song, and I had no special reason for using it aside from the fact that it's a something that has been stuck in my mind lately, and funny enough, I can't help but to feel that this is oddly appropriate for this particular situation. I normally don't like doing songfic-type chapters or stories, mostly because I find writing and reading them to be awkward, but I figured it would be okay to make an exception just this once.

Barry couldn't help feeling a sense of déjà vu, spending time with a drunk and overly jovial Caitlin at a bar. Only this time, they weren't alone. The rest of Team Arrow and Team Flash were there also, with the exception of Dr. Harrison Wells.

At that point in time, unlike Barry, Oliver was still very much unaware of how the speedster actually felt about the older man. Caitlin was also equally unaware, which is why she hadn't thought anything of it when she grabbed at Barry's wrist and began to tug him towards the pair of mics set up on stage.

“Come on! Come on, Barry," Caitlin said excitedly. “You have _got_ to let them all hear you sing!”

“A-ah...n-no, Caitlin, it's really okay!” Barry mumbled, already starting to feel the warmth rising in his cheeks.

His eyes couldn't help darting briefly over to where Oliver was sitting, sipping casually on a beer and listening to Cisco regale Team Flash's latest efforts when their eyes met by chance. Oliver quirked a questioning eyebrow when he saw Barry gulp visibly. Barry tried without avail to pry Caitlin's fingers off his wrist.

“R-really, Caitlin, I'm all right...” he said, wondering how on earth her grip could be so strong.

“Oh _come on_ , Barry! Don't be such a spoilsport!” Caitlin said, giggling. When she finally succeeded in getting her friend up on the stage, she leaned drunkenly towards one of the mics and spoke enthusiastically into it. “ _Ladies and gentlemen_...! You are _in for a treat!_ ”

Barry groaned and ran a hand over his face with his free hand. Of course the group had to come in to a bar that hosted open mics in the evenings on weekends.He was pretty sure he was going to need a lot of drinks after this, if only to help him forget the humiliation that he was most certainly going to feel in a few minutes that night.

“And back by popular demand...! The incredibly talented... _Barry Allen!_ ” Caitlin said to the sounds of people in the crowd murmuring and chuckling in amusement as she enthusiastically lifted up Barry's arm together with her own towards the ceiling before finally letting go of his wrist and pointing proudly at him. “ _Take it away_ , Barry!”

Barry stood there, feet feeling pretty much stuck to the floor and his mouth opening and closing helplessly at first, like a fish. Caitlin grinned at him before turning to the audience and speaking one last time into the mic.

“Seriously, you guys. You are in for a real treat,” she said before gleefully bouncing off the stage.

Unlike the bar he and Caitlin had been the last time they sang, this one had a live indie band on standby that would play with the person once they started singing. Barry held the mic in front of him with one hand and rubbed at the back of his neck with the other.

“Um...hey, everybody,” Barry said, spreading out the fingers of one hand in a short and awkward wave. He made the mistake of looking over at Oliver as he was introducing himself. “My name is Barry Oliver—uh! I mean, no, no-no...! That's not right! It's actually Allen...”

Barry felt his face go bright red as a collective, friendly chuckle swept through the room. The young man desperately wished for nothing more than to disappear in that moment, especially upon seeing the look on Oliver's face. The older man had a look that could only be described as a mixture between amusement and intrigue; a small smile playing on his lips as he took a sip from his beer. Barry eventually took in a short breath and managed to calm himself.

“Barry Allen...” he said softly. _“And here goes nothing...!”_ he thought.

He ended up deciding to sing the first song that came to his mind, which in hindsight he had to admit that it might not have necessarily been the best of ideas. It was too late to change though, Barry knew, as soon as the beginning chorus slipped out of his mouth and the band behind him caught on and began to play the accompaniment. Barry began singing with a soft, shy start; initially trying to look anywhere in the room _except_ in the direction of Oliver Queen.

> _This is my heartbeat song, and I'm gonna play it,_  
>  _Been so long, I forgot how to turn it—_  
>  _Up, up, up, up all night long;_  
>  _Oh, up, up all night long._

It had started off okay at first, but then Barry made the mistake of looking in Oliver's direction and locking eyes with the older man as he sang the words of the first verse.  This led Barry to all of a sudden feel himself grow flustered again. It was mostly because he hadn't planned for things to turn out this way, and yet here they were, happening all the same.

> _You_ _,_ _where the hell did you come from?_  
>  _You're a different, different kind of fun._  
>  _And I'm_ _still used to feel_ _ing_ _numb!_  
>  _Now, I got pins and needles on my tongue,_  
>  _Anticipating what's to come;_  
>  _Like a finger on a loaded gun!_

Barry began to feel a searing heat across his back; a result of feeling mortified at the current situation. The fact that Oliver now had a completely unreadable expression on his face didn't really help matters. Certainly not the younger man's nervousness. He almost let out an exasperated laugh at the irony in the next verse he sang.

> _I can feel it rising!_  
>  _Temperature inside me!_  
>  _Haven't felt it for a long time!_

Thankfully, someone in the room let out a cheer by the time he reached the chorus for a second time, and that was enough to help Barry pry his eyes away from Oliver and focus on the rest of the room. As a result, he began to grow more confident and his singing voice grew stronger as the song went on.

> _I, I wasn't even gonna go out,_  
>  _But I never would have had a doubt,_  
>  _If I don't know where I'd be now!_

Of course, there was a brief moment again where his voice faltered a little at the words that came up in another one of the verses, but Barry was able to recover his composure quickly since the verse was so short.

> _Your hands on my hips!_  
>  _And my kiss on your lips!_  
>  _Oh, I could do this for a long time!_

It also helped that the crowd had, at some point, begun to clap rhythmically and encouragingly to the beat of the music, and some even joined in on the singing the third time he reached the main chorus. Towards the end of the song though, Barry dared to look over in Oliver's direction for the first time in several verses and found his stomach twisting once again into knots at the intensity of the older man's expression.

> _Until tonight I only dreamed about you,_  
>  _I can't believe I'll ever breathe without you._  
>  _Baby you make me feel alive and brand new,_  
>  _Bring it one more time, one more time!_

Gradually, as he reached the end of the song, Barry's voice, along with the crowd's collective singing grew softer until finally Barry was the only one left singing the very last repetition of the chorus. When Barry concluded, the sound of the last word seemed to reverberate clearly throughout the entire room, which was then followed by a brief pause. Shortly after that, the room erupted into a commotion of energetic clapping and cheering from the audience. Barry gave the crowd the quickest of smiles before wasting no time in getting himself off of the stage.

When he managed to finally get back to his friends, Barry accepted the hoots, hollers, and friendly slaps on the back, congratulating him. However, he was absolutely unable to look Oliver in the eye, even as he sensed the older man's presence right beside him and felt the man's piercing gaze.

“ _That was pretty good, kid. Can't say that I expected it.”_ Barry felt his eyes widen upon hearing the unexpected compliment, and he felt his cheeks fire up for what seemed like the millionth time that evening. _“You sing quite well. I'm impressed.”_

By the time Barry had finally mustered the courage to look up at Oliver and thank him, he found that the older man had already gone and disappeared, much to his disappointment. Just as he was swallowing down the lump that had formed in his throat, Caitlin appeared beside him, grinning wildly and holding in her hands two shot glasses filled with vodka.

“That was really _fantastic_ , Barry!” Caitlin squealed, holding out one of the shots she was holding towards Barry. “Have a drink!”

“ _Haa_...” Barry chuckled sheepishly, gratefully accepting his friend's kind offer and downing it all in one go. “Yes, _please_ , and keep 'em coming...!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song used in this chapter, for anyone who hasn't heard of it and wants to know or for who cares, is called "[The Heartbeat Song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d4_6N-k5VS4)" by Kelly Clarkson.


	5. Ray Palmer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh...and I suppose it's better late than never to say this, but, if it wasn't obvious, these chapters aren't exactly written linearly, and there's definitely a bunch of time-skipping back and forth. Sorry if my not saying so earlier caused readers any confusion!
> 
> This chapter is for wordswehavesaid. Not part of the original set of chapters I had in mind, but I like to add in requests and/or suggestions made by readers who drop me a line when I can. Hope this chapter is to their liking. Sorry it's so short!

While Ray still considered Oliver to be a romantic rival for Felicity's heart, it was no longer in the same capacity as it had been at the start. It was kind of funny, how much things had changed over time, and yet also how much they had stayed the same. He still loved Felicity, and he still had some fighting to do to win her affections, but lately it was a different kind of uphill battle. To some degree, he knew that he had Barry Allen to thank for the romantic progress he'd been making lately with Felicity, though he probably never would have thought to do so had he not been so observant.

Ray couldn't point out the exact date he noticed the change, but if asked, he could point to who he had learned about the relationship from. Felicity had told him, of course, but not quite through the use of actual words. It had been more through the way that her expression would light up, every time Oliver would step into the room, but then gradually shift into a wistful look throughout the course of their interaction.

It wasn't until one day, when he met Barry together with Oliver for the first time, where he was finally able to make the connection. It wasn't the little nuances in the way the two men interacted with each other that gave them away at first; it was more the way Felicity's natural inability to hide what she was thinking on her face that told him everything Ray needed to know. The blend between fondness, acceptance, and a hint of defeat. From then on, it was like seeing another aspect to an optical illusion that could no longer be unseen.

There was even one day where, perhaps against his better judgment, he had made a passing comment to Oliver about his more recent observations. He had caught the other man in a moment of distraction from his work. On that particular day, Ray had noticed, Oliver's eyes would occasionally flit from what he was working on to the door, as if he were expecting something, or rather, some _one_ , to walk in at any minute. For some reason, Ray had felt the strangest inspiration to tease.

“ _Who would have thought that the great Oliver Queen would one day be done in by a dashing, young forensic scientist who hails from Central City?”_

He chuckled when the other man was startled out of his thoughts, and the reaction he received wasn't necessarily the one he had been expecting. Instead of a scowl or some other trademark grumpy response, the Vigilante gave him a quick glance and a small smile before looking back down at his work with a bit of a faraway look in his eyes.

“Yeah...” Oliver said, voice contemplative. “Who'd have thought....”

And it was in that moment Ray came to the decision that the man behind The Flash was really someone quite extraordinary.


	6. Cisco Ramon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know you guys can't see the statistics on this story like I can from the dashboard on this site, but wow!! It's very encouraging to see how much support this story has been getting in such a short span of time! Thanks! (Now, if only I had this same spur of inspiration to feed all my dedicated readers on my main account shiny new chapters...but alas. Still struggling to think of new ideas for those stories; so much so that it's embarrassing.)

There were definitely perks to working as a mechanical engineer for S.T.A.R. Labs, and for a superhero fanatic like Cisco Ramon, it was the opportunity to get up close and personal with two of Central and Starling City's finest. Having such great privilege, however, sometimes also meant that one could become privy to some interesting information; occasionally by complete accident.

Like the time where Team Flash and Team Arrow had pooled their resources together in order to catch some mad scientist threatening to obliterate both cities using some explosive device capable of reaching a massive range. Cisco had been the only one monitoring the communications system at the lab that day; everyone else was working on other matters either in the foundry or some other place off-site. The mission had concluded successfully enough, and Cisco had momentarily gotten distracted by something on his computer screen that it took him a moment to realize that Barry had forgotten to mute his end of the comm-link, allowing Cisco to hear some of the speedster's private conversation with The Arrow. Barry's suit was using a different, hands-free system that only required touch to turn the link on or shut it off and not for every time he needed to communicate.

It was all background noise to Cisco at first, until the sound of Barry's sudden yelp caught his attention. Before he could ask what was wrong, however, Oliver's somewhat distant voice suddenly came through, followed by some crackling, which Cisco would later realize was the sound of Barry's change in breathing.

“ _Hey,”_ Oliver said, sounding rather cross, like always.

Barry stuttered. _“W-what's up, Oliver?”_

It wasn't difficult for Cisco to imagine the older man's frown. _“You hurt anywhere?”  
_

“ _No.”_

“ _Are you telling me the truth?”_

“ _Cisco would have picked up on it.”_

It was true. Cisco would have mentioned something if he had noticed anything unusual. He was about to say as much, when another series of crackles came through the connection, followed by Barry's bewildered tone.

“ _H-hey! W-what are you doing?”_

The rustling noise was Oliver checking the speedster over himself, but Cisco didn't know that until Oliver said something.

“ _Checking you over. What does it look like?”_

Barry scoffed. _“I'm not a child.”_

Oliver chuckled. _“That's debatable.”_

“ _Hey!”_

There were more crackling sounds that came through the connection, followed by a moan. Cisco halted his movement and raised an eyebrow. When Barry's voice came through again, it was breathless.

“ _Wow...what was that for?”_

Oliver laughed softly. _“_ _Does love need a reason?”_

Cisco's jaw dropped open, and his eyes rounded in wonder. He was too shocked to even make fun of the men, letting them know he'd heard everything, and when Barry's voice came through again, it was unsurprisingly flustered. Cisco imagined the speedster's face was probably as red as his costume.

“ _Ah-I, I...”_

Another series of crackles—the light brush of yet another affectionate kiss, this time against Barry's forehead.

“ _Better hope things are quiet for us tomorrow night.”_

“ _Y-yeah...? And w-why's that...?”_

Oliver smiled, and though Cisco couldn't see it, the image of it came through clear in his tone.

“ _Made dinner reservations for us at six. At the Moonlight Room.”_

“ _O-oh...”_

“ _Don't be late.”_

For some reason, Cisco chose that exact moment to come to his senses and place his end of the communications on mute. Eyes still wide, his hands slowly rose to either side of his forehead as took a step back, lips rounding.

“Oh my god...” Cisco said to himself as he started to laugh. “ _H-holy shit_...!”


	7. Eddie Thawne

While Eddie couldn't find that he could really complain—seeing as how Barry's relationship with Oliver worked very much in his favor—that still didn't mean he hadn't found the change to be a little confusing and perhaps a bit sudden. After all, it seemed like it was just yesterday he and Barry were playing a silent tug-o-war over Iris. Though Eddie wasn't stupid, and he most certainly would have figured things out eventually, his becoming aware of the situation was kick-started when Iris simply told him one day over dinner.

Eddie remembered that day well. They had been eating the spaghetti and meatballs that he had prepared, and Iris had casually brought up the subject as if she were just making a passing comment about the weather. Eddie had blinked and asked Iris to repeat herself to make sure that he had heard her correctly, his fork stopped halfway towards his mouth. Iris had laughed.

“ _You're shitting me,”_ Eddie remembered saying.

Iris had lifted a shoulder in a slight shrug in response. _“No,_ _no_ _t at all.”_

A brief silence had then fallen between them. For a moment, Eddie had stared at his girlfriend as she poked at her pasta. The question he didn't ask aloud hung heavily in the air.

“ _Are you okay with it?”_

Iris was perceptive, though; always had been. When she noticed that Eddie had been staring at her, she gave her boyfriend a small smile.

“ _I'm fine, Eddie,”_ she had said to him. _“Really.”_

Maybe he believed her, or maybe he just wanted to take her at her word. Either way, Eddie left it as it was and didn't bother to inquire any further.

Shortly after that conversation, Eddie suddenly became more aware of how often Oliver Queen seemed to waltz into the precinct—sometimes with coffee, sometimes with roses, and other times with a surprisingly huge mega-watt smile that seemingly lit up an entire room. Eddie wasn't sure if he found the whole thing interesting or more on the side of disturbing.

One particular day, Eddie had intended to retrieve a report from Barry when he had caught the speedster and Vigilante ogling at each other with a dreamy look in their eyes. Instead of interrupting them, Eddie turned back the way he came, deciding that he could wait on that report after all.

“ _Disturbing...definitely?  Disturbing,”_ Eddie thought to himself, not quite sure why he felt like his cheeks were on fire as he marched his way towards his desk. _"And definitely going to need a bit more time for me to get used to all that...!”_


	8. Eobard Thawne (as Harrison Wells)

Pretending to be Harrison Wells and knowing how to play the role well often served as a great advantage for Eobard Thawne. A villain hidden amongst heroes, and especially under the guise of a well-respected scientist, The Man in Yellow occasionally found himself privy to some pretty useful knowledge.

Like knowing Barry Allen was the man behind The Flash, for example; or how Oliver Queen was The Arrow. The time traveler had to admit, there were days where it could really be fun. After all, The Flash was his childhood obsession. It was interesting to have the opportunity to see how certain scenes had played out in the past firsthand; even if it wasn't necessarily the same as actually having been there when it had all first happened. Even if all these people he was interacting with, in a time he'd found himself stuck in for fifteen long years, have been dead for centuries.

Because sometimes, he was able to learn something new; something that wasn't written in any history book. It could be that it wasn't true before, but it was now. Or maybe things were still the same, but no one had thought at the time that it would be an interesting fact to record. Somehow, Eobard had a feeling it wasn't the latter, as he couldn't help finding it rather hard to believe that any historian would have overlooked something so substantial.

For here they all were, Teams Arrow and Flash, all sitting around the long dining table in Harrison Wells' mansion, sharing a hearty meal and some jovial conversation. As the evening wound down, everyone's eyes became drawn towards one end of the table, where Oliver was tapping at his glass lightly with a small spoon. When it appeared that he had gathered the attention of all the guests, Oliver cleared his throat and rose from his seat.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips. “If I could make an announcement?”

He paused for a moment, then chose to continue when no one broke the silence; taking the quiet response for assent. Oliver turned and looked at Barry, whose head was slightly tilted to one side in curiosity, eyebrows furrowed together in question.

“I know Felicity, Iris, and Caitlin would probably kill me if I did this any other way,” said Oliver. “So I thought, what other time than here? What better time than now?”

There was a collective intake of breath at the table when Oliver took hold of one of Barry's hands. Barry's green eyes, which sometimes changed colors and shades depending on his mood, were now a light sea green as they looked upon Oliver with a fond confusion.

“Oliver...” Barry said slowly. “What are you...?”

“I'm not...always good with my words, Barry,” Oliver said, cutting his boyfriend off. “But you know this about me. So do the rest of you.”

The Arrow elicited a few chuckles from his audience with that comment. Oliver gave Barry's hand a light squeeze.

“So please forgive me, Barry,” Oliver said. “If this next part doesn't go exactly right—if it doesn't go _exactly_ the way you might have hoped or imagined it would.”

Barry shook his head. “Ollie, what are you talking about? Come on— _ow!_ _Caitlin_...! What was that for? Why'd you hit me?”

“Just shut up, will you?” Caitlin scolded, hands rising to cover her lips and her eyes brimming with tears. “Let him speak!”

Barry chuckled softly. “What...?”

He glanced at Felicity and Iris, who were seated right across from him, from the corner of his eye. They seemed to be sharing the same moved expression.

“Uh...guys...?” Barry said uncertainly.

He looked back at Oliver when the older man cleared this throat, effectively recapturing the speedster's attention.

“Barry,” he said, voice in that nice, deep baritone he tended to use when saying something serious or heartfelt. “In the time we've spent together...in the time we've spent _really_ getting to know each other...you have taught me many things.”

Oliver's voice seemed to echo in the room; it was that quiet. To Barry's credit, he made no further interruptions.

“How to trust again...how to be okay with letting myself rely upon others,” Oliver continued. “But most of all...how to _love_.”

A light pink blush dusted Barry's cheeks. Gently squeezing Oliver's hand back, he tipped his head.

“Ollie...I'm not sure I understand. What are you do— _oh my god_...!”

When Oliver dropped down on one knee, Barry's eyes rounded and he abruptly rose from his seat. His free hand flew to his mouth, which was now slightly agape. His other hand fell to the side when Oliver released it, as he rummaged through a pocket to eventually pull out a small, velvet box.

“Oh my god...!” Barry repeated, hands clasping behind his neck as he started to laugh a little. “Is this really happening...?”

Oliver opened the box, revealing a gold, custom-made ring that combined the symbols of both their aliases; a lightning bolt affixed atop an arrowhead. The Vigilante looked up at Barry, seeming vulnerable and expectant. There was no reason for him to be nervous, and yet it would appear that he was. The muscles in Oliver's throat tensed and relaxed as he gulped down whatever anxieties were building up within him. When he asked the question, it was soft and somewhat uncertain, like he was still afraid Barry would give him the answer he least hoped to hear.

“ _Marry me_...Barry?”

“ _Holy shit_...!” Barry said, looking at Oliver in complete wonder. “This is actually happening...!”

“Oh, for crying out loud, Barry!” Felicity said, gesturing her hands excitedly in Oliver's direction. “Stop torturing Oliver and give him an answer already!”

“ _Yes_...!” Barry said instantly, snapping out of his daze. “ _Yes_ , Oliver.”

Then Oliver wasted no time in rising to his feet and wrapping his arms around Barry; threading a hand through the younger man's hair at the back of his head, pulling the speedster closer and crushing their lips together for a bruising kiss. For a minute, it's as if they've both forgotten there are other people in the room until they both simultaneously appear to come to their senses and break apart abashedly. Then moments later, there's an eruption of clapping and cheers from almost all the guests at the table. All except one.

Everyone was too busy and distracted to notice that the man they believed to be Harrison Wells was, for the most part, still. Lips pressed thoughtfully against steepled fingers; a cool and calculating glint in his eyes.

Information was useful. Information was power. And in some cases, information could _destroy_.  The unsuspecting, newly engaged couple had no idea just how much they had revealed, and to whom.

“ _Enjoy it all while you can, Barry Allen,”_ Eobard thought to himself, quite pleased to have found such a weakness in both of them.  “ _Because one day you will likely pay for this carelessness. For your mistake...”_

He looked on as both speedster and Vigilante posed for multiple camera phone pictures.  It was times like these where Eobard tended to struggle a bit within himself.  He didn't think Dr. Wells was at all alive or inside him, but there were brief moments, like this one, where Eobard didn't know where such feelings of compassion and mercy seemed to come from.  Thoughts that, ironically, didn't seem to be at all his own.  When Barry looked over in his direction, Eobard quickly fell into character and gave the young man a convincing smile and nod of congratulations, only dropping the mask when Barry's attention was once again called elsewhere. 

Eobard felt his lips twitch in slight annoyance as he thought, _"Just not today...I suppose."  
_


	9. Roy Harper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all are soooo encouraging and fantastic!! I feel my writing spirit rejuvenating again through this exercise, haha. We're almost at the end! Curious to know what people think when I finally get to finish the last two chapters of this fic and post them up!

In some ways, for Roy, Oliver was like the older brother he'd always wanted, but never had. Working alongside the Arrow for a while only went to amplify those feelings, and though the other man never spoke on it, Roy was almost completely certain that it was the same for Oliver.

Which is why when he found out about Oliver having a thing for Barry, he decided to do what any good little brother in his shoes would do. Push them together. Like Sebastian from _The Little Mermaid_ -style, though unfortunately without the epic musical number.

“ _Dude. Just kiss him.”_

Oliver swiftly turned to look over his shoulder and frowned at the man who had spoken behind him. “Sorry... _what?_ ”

He caught a glimpse of the younger man's smirk and bristled. Roy moved beside Oliver and gave him a friendly bump of the shoulders before tilting his chin up in the direction the older man had been staring in just seconds earlier.

Roy shrugged. “I don't know. You've got a starin' problem for him...I figure, the best way to fix the problem—”

“Is to _kiss him_...?” Oliver asked, deadpan and clearly unamused.

“Yep.”

Oliver shook his head. “Not a chance, Roy.”

Roy chuckled. “Hey, then that's your loss, man. I'm not the one into him.”

Giving Oliver a cheeky grin, he pat the older man firmly once on the back before walking away. From that point on, Roy made it a little game to tease Oliver about it like any good annoying little brother would; every now and again throwing him a _“Hey, did you kiss him yet?”_ here and a _“Well? How_ _'_ _bout now?”_ there. Really, he was just doing his duty.

Eventually, all the hard work paid off and he got his opportunity to see the fruits of his labor play out one day when he showed up at an abandoned warehouse Oliver had told him to meet at for a sparring session. Thinking it would be funny to try and get a drop on the man, Roy got into Arsenal mode and lurked in the shadows. To his surprise though, he found Oliver already sparring with someone. It took him a second to realize _who_ , but as soon as he did, Roy couldn't help chuckling to himself.

The chemistry between The Flash and Arrow was undeniable, and it was clear that the pair had been doing this for some time now. It was obvious from the way they each read the other, anticipating the next move and responding appropriately. At some point though, the two collided together, and then it became something more of a backyard wrestling match, with Oliver eventually coming out on top.

Roy could see Barry's eyes widen in surprise as Oliver roughly pushed him back down when the speedster tried to rise. The older man managed to pin down Barry's outstretched arms, and Oliver was straddled above the younger man's hips. Both men were breathing harshly, and there was a brief hesitation in movement. Roy felt the corner of his lips twitch slightly.

“ _C'mon_ , man...” Roy muttered under his breath. “This is the _perfect_ time...! Do it _now_...!”

Then, as if Oliver had heard him, he heard the older man say something along the lines of _“Well, fuck it...!”_ before kissing a bewildered Barry Allen. After it was clear Barry wasn't planning to complain, Roy ducked out of the warehouse wearing what could only be described as a triumphant grin.

The next day, as Roy passed by Oliver—who appeared to be busy reading some document—the older man made a passing comment.

“You missed practice.”

Roy chuckled and didn't give Oliver so much as a glance as he continued on towards his workstation.

“I _didn't_ ,” he said, a pleased smirk on his face as he fired back with a comment that immediately had the other man sputtering. “You just looked a little busy, so I figured you might want to reschedule.”


	10. Joe West

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg, my sides are KILLING ME because of how funny these comments are that people are leaving!! LOL!! Hope you all enjoy this chapter as well!

Joe quietly observed from where he sat in the pews. Felicity was speaking with Oliver at the front of the church. Oliver looked tense and his eyes were affixed on some part of the ground, listening intently to Felicity's words and nodding occasionally.

“Just _breathe_ , Oliver...!” Joe heard Felicity say to her friend. “Relax and _just breathe_. Everything's going to be fine.”

“I know...I know,” Oliver said, his voice carrying the barest hint of a whine. “But I mean, what if he changes his mind? He could still change his mind, you know...or, I mean, what if this is just a bad idea in general? I mean, I'm not exactly the _safest_ guy to get married to...”

“Oliver?” Felicity said, clapping her hands over both the man's shoulders.

Oliver raised his eyebrows in question. “Yes, Felicity...?”

The blonde gave him one of her I-swear-if-you-say-one-more-stupid-thing-I-will-most-definitely-smack-you type of smiles. “You both work to protect the citizens of your cities. Barry is a _metahuman_ , and more than perfectly capable of handling himself. You two are _great_ together. I know it, you know it, the whole of Central and Starling City knows it, even if they don't actually know who you two are behind your masks. So please. Just. Shut. Up.”

Oliver nodded curtly in response, a slight twitch in his jaw.

“Right...” he said, absently flexing his hands at his sides several times. “Right.”

Chuckling to himself, Joe got up while Felicity continued to reassure Starling City's Vigilante. He decided to go and find Barry, check on how the kid was doing.

He tried not to let his amusement show when he saw Barry in a room with his daughter Iris, pacing about nervously. He notedthat Barry was flexing his hands in much the same manner as he had seen Oliver do just moments before and smiled. The pair was in sync; that was always a good sign.

He could tell that his daughter was also trying not to laugh. Iris was sitting sideways on a chair, an arm draped over the backing and her chin resting atop her wrist. She had a smile on her face as she tilted her head to one side.

“Come on, Barry! What's there to be nervous about?” she asked.

“Nothing...?” Barry said as he clapped his hands together once and then spread them apart in that characteristic way he did sometimes. “Or, I don't know... _everything?!_ ”

Joe chose that moment to make his presence known. He rapped on a portion of the wall with his knuckles. Barry jumped a little and Iris turned her head. Both acknowledged him simultaneously.

“ _Dad!_ ”

“Oh! Joe. _Hey!_ ”

Joe smiled. “Come a long way from those days playing seven minutes in heaven in the evidence room, haven't you?”

He laughed when Barry's face turned a beet red. He held up his hands and gestured them back and forth, like he was pressing something invisible.

“Sorry, sorry. Couldn't resist,” he said.

Iris rolled her eyes. “ _Dad_...! Could you make him any more jittery?”

Joe walked over to his daughter, wrapped an arm around her in a side-hug, and pressed a firm kiss to the side of her head. “I know. I'm sorry, honey,” he apologized again before looking back at Barry. “So. What seems to be the problem, kids?”

“ _Well_...” Iris drawled out, dramatically turning her head back to look in the speedster's direction. “ _Barry_ here seems to be getting a small case of cold feet.”

“ _Really_ ,” Joe said, arching an eyebrow and looking from his daughter to Barry. “And why is that, son?”

“I mean, I don't know...!” Barry said, shifting the weight on his feet. “What if he changes his mind? What if he decides we're not good for each other? I mean, _hell_...! What if we _aren't_ good for each other...? I—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Joe said, lifting up his hands and trying not to laugh at his foster son. “Barry... _Barry_. Relax, kid.”

He chuckled when he saw Barry tense up instead. Joe shook his head.

“Come on now, Barr,” Joe said as he echoed Felicity's words of wisdom from earlier. “Take in a deep breath now. That's it. Now exhale. Good, good. Breathe. Just breathe.”

Barry let his shoulders dramatically rise and fall as he let out a heavy sigh. Joe raised an eyebrow.

“Feeling better now, kid?” he asked.

Barry's response came in the form of short, quick nods. “Yeah...yeah, maybe a little bit.”

Right then, the door opened and Caitlin poked her head in. “Ceremony's starting!” she quipped excitedly before closing the door again.

Joe and Iris exchanged a smile before the detective looked at Barry with his eyebrows raised. “Well?” he said. “Are we ready to go?”

Barry pat his hands against his thighs, as if to make it appear as if he were brushing himself off, and nodded. “Yeah...” he said. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Good,” Joe said with a smile. “Then wait here a second. I've got a surprise for you.”

Barry gave Iris a curious glance, who gave him a one-shouldered shrug in response. Moments later, the door opened again, and Barry's eyes widened at who he saw.

“ _Dad!_ ” he cried out, stepping forward.

His father laughed and enveloped his son in a warm embrace. Barry shook his head.

“How...? What are you doing here?” he asked.

“What, you'd think I'd miss the chance to walk my only son down the aisle on the day of his wedding?” Henry Allen asked before gesturing at the man behind him. “Joe managed to pull a few strings.”

“Well this is...this is great!” Barry said, laughing. He looked over his father's shoulder at Joe. “Thank you, Joe.”

The detective shook his head. “Don't mention it, Barry.”

“Now, you ready to go, son?” Henry asked, taking a step back and looking his son in the eyes. “ _God_ , if only your mother could see this now...”

Barry chuckled. “Think she'd be mad that it's not a girl...?”

Henry frowned and shook his head. “ _Nonsense_ , Barry,” he said. “ All she ever wanted was for your happiness, just as I do now.”  
  
Barry smiled, and Caitlin appeared again just then. “ Five minutes guys! And _Barry_ , don't be late! Oliver just looks _so_ nervous up there!”

They all shared a good laugh. Finally, Henry held out one of his arms.

“Well, son?” said Henry. “Probably shouldn't keep the young man up there waiting for too long, don't you think?”

Barry blushed as he placed a hand on his father's arm. “Yeah. Let's go.”

They all left the room, and Iris and Caitlin rushed ahead to find seats. Joe, Barry, and Henry hung outside the chapel doors until they heard the instrumental cue. Then the doors flew open and the three of them proceeded inside. All around them were murmurs of people whispering excitedly; several flashes went off at the same time, as some of the guests decided to take pictures. Everyone's attention eventually moved to the front of the room, where Oliver was standing, rigid with anticipation.

Henry leaned forward and whispered in Oliver's ear as he handed off his son. “Now you take care of my son, you hear?”

Oliver nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Henry continued. “And if you so much as break my little boy's heart...”

Oliver shook his head. “I won't, sir. I promise.”

“Good,” Henry said, patting Oliver on the shoulder firmly with one hand. “I'll be holding you to that, boy.”

Shortly after Barry's father turned around to sit down, Joe approached Oliver next and whispered in the Vigilante's ear in the same way that Henry had done. “And if you _do_ end up breaking his little boy's heart, just know that you'll have more than one father's wrath to deal with.”

Oliver's eyebrows rose on his forehead and he gave a quick tilt of the head. “Duly noted,” he said.

“As long as you understand,” Joe said as he went to take a seat beside Barry's father.

Oliver then turned to look at Barry, who looked a mixture between nervous and confused. Oliver reached out for Barry's hands and then gave them a slight squeeze, a warm smile forming on his face.

“ _Hey_ ,” he said.

“Hey,” Barry replied, mirroring Oliver's smile with a small one of his own. “Everything okay...?”

“What? Oh yeah,” Oliver said, nodding quickly. “Everything's fine, Barr.”

“Okay...if you say so...” Barry said slowly, seeming a little skeptical.

Then the priest began, and soon the pair of superheroes were saying their vows and exchanging rings. The room erupted in a frenzy of cheers when they were pronounced “Mr. and Mr. Oliver Queen,” and things only grew more chaotic when the two newlywed husbands shared a single, chaste kiss.

There was a great deal of clapping and even more flashing of cameras as Oliver took Barry by the hand and both men ran down the aisle. Joe leaned in to hear what Henry had to say when the other man nudged him with a shoulder.

“You keep watching over him for me, Joe,” the man requested.

“You know I will, Henry,” Joe said. “You don't even need to ask.”

" _Thank you_."


	11. Henry Allen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Whispers* _Holy crap_...! :o 101 kudos?? I don't think I've ever broken 100 of _anything_ in my life! Not even my car!!
> 
> This unplanned chapter is for murderbynuns, because it seemed like they were interested in seeing something from the perspective of Barry's dad so...here you area! 
> 
> If there are any other character requests, now is the time to say it! Otherwise, as soon as the first of the last two chapters go up (which I hope to have completed and posted sometime tomorrow...), I will not be making any more impromptu additions to this story, as I have a very specific ending in mind that I do not want to alter.

When he first heard the news, Henry wasn't at all surprised that the one to tell him was Joe and not Barry. He probably would have been more shocked too, if Joe hadn't been so casual in broaching the subject. It was also probably wise on Joe's part, to give Barry's father the information dump over food. Quality food, at that; smuggled in from the outside world. There were perks to being good friends with your neighbor, especially if that neighbor was also a well-respected detective of Central City.

Henry gave Joe the perfect window of opportunity when he decided to ask about his son. “So Joe,” he said as he cut into a part of his steak. “How's Barry these days?”

Joe cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows. “Ah...he's fine. Fine! Barry's doing _great_.”

Henry stopped mid-slice and looked up at Joe. “Really,” he said, raising a questioning eyebrow of his own. “Because you sound like you might be hiding something...is everything really all right?”

Joe nodded. “Yeah. The kid's fine, it's just...well...”

“Well?”

Finally, Joe let out a sigh. “See, the thing is, Henry...it seems your boy is a little sweet on someone.”

“Oh, is that all,” Henry said with a chuckle as he resumed cutting into and then taking a bite of his steak. “I should hardly find that surprising, Joe. He's been at that age for a while. So tell me, who is it? No, wait! Let me guess...is it Iris?”

Joe shook his head. “ _Haa_...you know, I used to think the same thing. And maybe it was true, at one time, but it most certainly isn't now.”

“Well, that sure is interesting!” Henry said, looking at his friend in between bites. “So who is it then? Anyone I know?”

“ _Eh_...whether you know him or not is debatable,” Joe said with a shrug. “How up-to-date with pop culture are you, Henry?”

The other man raised an eyebrow again at this. “Is my son dating a celebrity or something?”

“Well, I _suppose_ you could say that...” said Joe.

“And did you also just say ' _he_ '?” Henry questioned.

Joe responded by finally just cutting to the chase. “Listen, Henry...you ever hear of the name Oliver Queen?”

The detective winced a little when Henry started coughing, food having gone down the wrong tube, and needing to wash it all down with some water. Henry wiped his lip.

“I'm sorry, _what?_ ” Henry asked, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin. “You mean that kid who's the son of one of the wealthiest men in the next city over or something like that?”

When Joe nodded, Henry frowned, going into parental mode. “And how did he meet this kid?” Henry asked. “Oh god...Barry hasn't gotten himself mixed up in doing drugs or something like that, has he?”

“Whoa, whoa, no. _Relax_ , Henry,” Joe said, holding up his hands. “There's a perfectly reasonable explanation for all this.”

“Well, I sure hope so!” said Henry. “Let's hear it!”

“They met through work,” said Joe.

“At the precinct?!” Henry exclaimed. “Well, that's just great, Joe. What was he in for? Why didn't you stop this from happening?”

“No, no, no,” said Joe. “Not _that_ job, Henry. The _other_ _one_.”

It took Barry's father several seconds to process this information. Then finally, he said, “ _Oh_.”

“As The Flash,” Joe confirmed with a nod.

“So this Oliver kid,” said Henry. “He's become a metahuman too?”

“What? No, no, nothing like that,” Joe said, shaking his head. “He's still very much standard human. Here, take a look.”

The detective pulled out of his pocket a newspaper clipping. Henry took it from him and quickly scanned over the article.

“ _Huh_...” he said, eventually setting the news story down. “So he's a local hero too, in a way...and they call him The Arrow?”

“Yes,” Joe said, nodding.

“ _Hm_...” Henry said, leaning back in his seat and tapping a finger at the newspaper clipping for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. Finally, he shrugged and said, “Yeah. All right then. That's fine.”

“Really?” Joe asked, raising an eyebrow. “You're sure.”

“Mmhmm,” Henry said with a nod. “I'd like to see this kid for myself though. Tell Barry to bring him around to introduce to me sometime.”

“All right, but...you're sure?” Joe asked. “You're okay with all this?”

Henry nodded again and smiled at his friend. “Yep. Completely okay.”

“And my informing you that your son is gay...or at the very least bisexual,” said Joe. “No problems?”

“Nope,” said Henry. “Not with any of it. Do you?”

Joe shook his head. “No.”

“Then good!” Henry said, fairly matter-of-fact. "We're on the same page.”

“Wow...” Joe said in slight awe. “That went a lot easier than I expected.”

“Ah, what do I care?” Henry said, waving a hand dismissively. “I realize that times are changing. Besides, as long as this Oliver guy isn't getting him into any trouble and makes the kid happy, who am I to judge?”

“...and Nora would probably kill you,” Joe added, deadpan.

“And Nora would _absolutely_ kill me,” Henry confirmed solemnly with a nod.

There was a brief moment of silence, and then the two men suddenly burst out into laughter. As he began to calm down, Joe wiped a tear from his eye.

“Well, I'm glad you're able to take the news so well,” said Joe.

“Of course. I love my son,” Henry said before clapping a hand on the detective's shoulder. “Seriously though, Joe...make sure Barry comes by with him sometime.”

“Sure thing,” Joe said with a nod. “I'll have the boys come by for visitation sometime next week.”

“ _Excellent_.”

True to his word, Joe arranged for the boys to meet with Henry several days later. Barry smiled at his father sheepishly when he poked his head around the entrance of the cell.

“Hey, Dad,” he said.

Henry smiled. “Barry! Come on in. Where's Joe?”

“Uh, he said he needed to talk to the guard for a minute,” Barry said, giving his father a warm hug. “Listen, Dad...there's um...there's someone I'd like you to meet.”

“Of course, son,” Henry said, feigning ignorance. “And who's that?”

“Right. Um...” Barry looked at his father a bit uncertainly before turning his head and calling over his shoulder. “Hey, Ollie...? You can, uh...you can come on in now.”

Henry bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling a little too widely. He put on his best stern face when Oliver entered the room. He was amused by how tense the man appeared to be. He waited while Oliver wiped his palms against his jeans before holding out his right hand, which Henry accepted, and the two shared a brief, firm shake.

“Pleasure to finally meet you, sir,” Oliver said while clearing his throat. “The name's Oliver. Oliver Queen.”

Henry nodded. “Yes. I've heard quite a bit about you, Mr. Queen.”

“Wait, you _have?_ ” Barry quipped in surprise, voice cracking slightly.

Henry looked at his son and chuckled. “Yes, Barry. I have,” he said with a smile. “From Joe.”

“ _Oh_... _Joe_...” Barry said, his posture relaxing a bit. “Well that explains it, but... _wait_...! Does that mean...? Are you...? Are you okay with...with _this_...?” Barry asked, gesturing between himself and Oliver.

Henry chuckled. “Of course I am, son. He makes you happy, right? You make him happy, Oliver?” he asked, looking between his son and Oliver.

Both men answered his question simultaneously, and with equal enthusiasm.

“ _Yeah, Dad! He does!”_

“ _I do my absolute best, sir.”_

Henry laughed as both Barry and Oliver's faces turned a bright red. “That's good now, boys,” Henry said, content. “That's real good.”


	12. Barry Allen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Debating whether or not it's worth writing a companion piece to this where I concentrate more on the fumblings of their relationship from mainly Oliver and Barry's perspective, lol. Or perhaps it would just be better to leave this project as is and move onto something else entirely. I don't know yet. We'll see.

Their schedules didn't always match, given their twilight professions, but when they did—in the sense that they'd be home at the same time—Barry found that most comforting part about coming home was knowing that there would be someone there waiting for him. Someone who understood what he was going through.

Barry was successful slipping into the house at first; he managed to open and shut the door without too much creaking. It was close to five in the morning, and sunlight was already creeping through the curtains when he entered the living room. The corners of his lips quirked upwards as he found himself staring fondly at the person lying on the modern, white, sectional sofa.

Oliver was stretched out on the longer part of the sofa, one leg behind a couple of the pillows and the other hanging lazily partway off the couch. His arms were also wrapped around one of the pillows, and his head was resting on yet another one of them. He dressed in a green hoodie, which was pulled up over his head, and black sweatpants. Barry observed silently for a moment, watching the soft rise and fall of his husband's chest as he listened to the accompanying quiet, steady breathing.

Deciding he didn't want to bother the older man's peaceful slumber, Barry made to move towards the master bedroom. Unfortunately, his clumsy limbs had other ideas. While trying to pass his lover by, Barry accidentally nicked his shin against the coffee table, and then the otherwise nimble speedster dropped to the floor unceremoniously, eyes wide and with a rather pronounced thump.

“ _Ack—shit!_ ” Barry hissed as he fell.

Given their line of work, it was no surprise that Oliver wasn't a heavy sleeper. The minute the commotion began, the older man jolted awake, though perhaps he wasn't as alert as he probably would have liked. Grunting, it took him a brief second to survey the room and assess the situation. Upon realizing the source of the ruckus was Barry, the older man visibly relaxed and rubbed at his eyes. When he spoke, his voice sounded gravelly and unused.

“Hn...hey Barr,” he whispered.

The speedster looked up at him with a sheepish smile and a light flush to his cheeks. “ _Hey_ , Ollie...!” he whispered back. “Good morning. Sorry for waking you...”

Oliver shook his head and patted a hand on one of his thighs. “Nah, don't worry about it. Come on. C'mere.”

Barry scrunched his nose. “Aw, I can't, Ollie. I haven't showered yet or anything.”

Oliver chuckled. “It's all right. We can take one together in a couple of hours.”

“...but I'm sweaty,” Barry complained with a slight pout.

Oliver rolled his eyes and Barry let out a surprised yelp when the older man gripped his arm and pulled him onto the couch. Oliver moved the pillow he had been holding earlier and stacked it atop the pillow behind his head. He then allowed Barry to adjust above him and smiled when the younger man looked at him after getting comfortable. A pleased shiver coursed through Barry when Oliver threaded his fingers through the speedster's hair and then trailing them down his backside. Emitting a noise that was a cross between a whine and a moan, Barry buried his face into Oliver's chest, which rumbled with the older man's soft laughter.

“ _Jerk_ ,” he said, voice somewhat muffled.

Oliver chuckled and continued his rhythmic ministrations. He looked down at his husband with an expression full of love and affection.

“Tell me about your day, Barr.”

A small frown crossed the older man's features when he felt his lover tense and let out a sigh. He ran his fingers through Barry's chestnut-colored locks.

“What's wrong?”

Barry shook his head. “ _Nothing_. I...”

The speedster looked up. Green eyes met blue. He tried to ignore the narrowing of the older man's eyes when Barry worried his lip, deciding whether or not he'd tell the truth; they both knew it was one of his many tells.

Barry lowered his gaze and began to fiddle with a part of the fabric of Oliver's top. “Just a long day, I guess,” he finally settled for saying.

He heard Oliver take in a short, disapproving breath, but the Vigilante decided not to press further. “All right, well...you can talk about whatever you want then, okay? How about that...?”

“ _Mm_...!” Barry hummed, shifting his position to allow himself to stretch a bit so he could nuzzle Oliver's neck for a second. “I love you, Ollie...”

He then moved to give the older man a quick peck on the lips before smiling down at Oliver, who looked back at him with a small smile of his own, eyes reflecting both warmth and worry. Barry tilted his head.

“Thank you...?” he said, not clarifying what for and voice inflection rising a bit at the end as if he were asking a question, when he really wasn't.

Oliver gave a slight one-shoulder shrug. “Don't mention it,” he said, using his fingers to start massaging at Barry's scalp. “Talk to me, Barr.”

“Hm...” Barry closed his eyes and then he rearranged himself so that their legs were somewhat entwined and his head was turned to one side, an ear pressed against Oliver's chest. “Well, the precinct was pretty busy today.”

“Yeah?” asked Oliver.

“Yeah,” Barry confirmed, releasing a long breath as he listened to the steady beat of his lover's heart. “Eddie brought in a couple rough characters. One of them tried reaching for an officer's taser; definitely caused Eddie a bit of trouble.”

Oliver half-smiled. “Sounds like a headache."

“ _Hah_ ,” Barry said with a slight chuckle. “You'd bet it was...you have no idea how frustrating it can be sometimes...well, no, that's a lie. Maybe you do.”

“It's hard not to do the superhero thing,” Oliver supplied. “I know, Barr. I understand.”

“Yeah, I know you do...I'm sorry,” said Barry. “I don't even know why I said that.”

“Nah, it's all right,” said Oliver.

“It's just...it's difficult sometimes, you know?” said Barry. “Having to restrain yourself or walk away in situations, even though you _know_ you're fully capable of helping do something to make a difference. You know what I mean?”

“I do.”

Barry let out a sigh. “And then I got that call from S.T.A.R. Labs...”

Oliver continued to listen quietly as Barry rambled on. He started tracing soothing trails up and down Barry's backside again, comforting the younger man.

“Helped contain another metahuman hell-bent on trying to terrorize Central City...” said Barry. “And then Joe called me with the results to some lab tests I'd asked people in forensics to take care of for me...”

“Bad news?” Oliver asked.

Barry sighed again. “The worst...” he confirmed.

“What's it about?”

“The true identity of Dr. Harrison Wells.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow. “Come again...?”

Barry heaved out another sigh. “No, don't worry about it,” he said, shaking his head. “Let's not talk about it now...”

“...all right,” Oliver hesitantly conceded.

Barry looked back at his lover then, worrying his lower lip a little with his teeth. “I'll tell you all about it eventually, okay...? I promise...”

“Well...as long as I hear about what this is eventually,” said Oliver. “We _are_ married, after all. There shouldn't be any secrets.”

“And I wholeheartedly agree,” said Barry. “Which is why you know that there's something up. I just...I don't think I have the energy to actually get into all the finer details right now.”

Oliver nodded. “Fair enough.”

Barry rewarded him with a small, appreciative smile. “Thanks,” he said before turning his head and settling back down on the older man's chest.

“So...?” Oliver asked. “Anything else you'd like to tell me?”

“Mm...I could run you through all the latest and greatest quotes uttered by the one and only Cisco?” Barry offered.

Oliver chuckled. “Why not...” he said. “Sure.”

“Well! I should probably start by telling you about the argument he had with Caitlin over what he wanted to call today's metahuman...”

And Barry chattered on rather cheerily well into the sunrise. It was possible they could have gone to bed at some point, but every time Barry's storytelling would slow, Oliver would start things up again by asking another question or two.

Eventually, they came to an impasse, and the pair of lovebirds laid there in silence for a while. Oliver caressed Barry's head with a hand, and the younger man's eyes started to grow heavy.

He felt a well of emotion when the older man finally broke the silence with a soft, _“Know that I love you, Barry...”_

Barry clenched and released at part of the fabric of Oliver's hooded top before pushing gently against the man's side and lifting his head.


	13. Oliver Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No matter what name I write under, I always find myself lucky to come across such supportive readers. I'm not sure what story I'd like to tell next; I have some ideas, but I'm still debating if any of them are actually worth starting. I think I'll be under this name just for a little bit longer before I'm ready to go back to all my unfinished stories on my main account. I do so hate to leave readers hanging for too long. 
> 
> The first half of this fic is for KekeMcFreckles, who wrote me a lovely comment saying that they hoped for a super long ending full of feels (this is, in fact, the longest chapter of the entire story, just for them!), and also mentioned being curious about how Oliver first discovered his feelings for Barry and then how he went about making something happen between them. I hope this chapter meets their expectations.

There was something beautiful about Barry Allen. It was something that Oliver came to know before he ever came to understand it. Had he still been the ignorant boy from before, self-important and self-centered, Oliver may have never had the opportunity to realize it. So for that, he was glad that he had endured the trials, being stranded on that island. For a world without Barry would have been most tragic.

It had taken time, of course. Everything did for Oliver, when he came back. A changed man; bitter, suspicious, perhaps even a little bit lost, and most certainly in pain. Becoming The Arrow helped, and so did being around his team, when he slowly allowed people in to help; friends he could trust. Eventually, things had gotten into a comfortable rhythm, and Oliver thought that maybe he could even say that he was, at the very least, content, if not completely happy.

Then came Barry, and Oliver's world turned upside-down and changed again, in a brand new way. Barry was different; Barry was a breath of fresh air. Barry was a change of pace. Oliver hadn't known how to handle it, at first.

Looking back, Oliver supposed he could laugh at it a little. He remembered having been told stories in the past, by friends who had once sworn alongside him that they'd be the playboy elite forever and never settle, about how they had found true love; how at first they hadn't registered the fact that they had been punched by it so cleanly in the face. There was a common theme Oliver had recognized in those stories, and it was how the couples didn't like each other at first; how some downright hated each other in the beginning.

Falling in love with Barry had been an awful lot like that. Oliver hadn't hated the kid, but he most certainly hadn't trusted him from the start. Barry was too smart; too perceptive. Barry came to learn that he was the man behind the Hood. Oliver hadn't been comfortable with that. Barry somehow managed to change his perspective, though, and Oliver supposed that was the younger man's talent.

Perhaps it had all started with the mask. After Oliver's identity as the Vigilante was revealed, Barry left behind a mask for him to wear in lieu of greasepaint. It was such a minor thing, but it did make getting changed just _that_ much faster, and Oliver had grown to become a huge fan of efficiency. From then on though, every time he found reason to wear it, Oliver found himself falling into the habit of ghosting his fingertips across the bottom of the mask and thinking of Barry. Funny thing was, with no one privy to his thoughts, Oliver had no reason to think deeply into the significance of his habitually lending his thoughts to the speedster.

He didn't even notice how in certain situations his first thought would be to ask Barry for help, like the time where Oliver was under fire with the police department and could not safely fight crime as The Arrow. He also failed to note his inability to conceal his disappointment when Felicity informed him that Barry's hands were tied because of some situation with Dr. Wells and his mother's murder, nor did he realize he hadn't been able to hide the expression of concern from his face.

What it _had_ taken, was his team taking note of all his little nuances and then drawing his attention to them at various opportune moments. Once Oliver became aware, it was like one of those things where once he started to see for himself, he couldn't _stop_ seeing it.

He began to notice how he looked forward to every time he and his team needed to go to Central City, as well as his feelings of restlessness and anticipation when he knew Team Flash would be coming to Starling. Of course, the key part was recognizing _why_ he felt that way, and there was only the obvious answer. If Oliver had to point to a specific point in time where he had felt everything really falling into place, he had to say it was perhaps when he and Diggle had their little conversation about the Vigilante's feelings for the speedster.

Barry had come over to the foundry, and he had been talking to Oliver intensively about _something_. If anyone were to ask him now, Oliver wasn't sure he'd be able to recall the exact contents of that particular conversation—all he could recall was that it had been something science-related—because he had been so distracted by his epiphany. At some point during Barry's enthusiastic rant, it occurred to Oliver that the younger man was quite the chatterbox, and what was interesting about this was that the older man found that he actually didn't mind. This was highly unusual, given that he was a man of few words and one who also appreciated when others just went ahead and cut to the chase.

“ _...so what do you think?”_

Oliver blinked. He had been so distracted by his thoughts that he hadn't expected the conversation to turn into an active exercise. He felt a slight twinge of guilt as Barry was looking at him expectantly, waiting for _some_ kind of answer to his question.  Whatever that had been. The Vigilante cleared his throat.

“Sorry, I...”

He felt even more awful when the younger man seemed to deflate a little, shoulders dropping and a look of disappointment crossing his features. “Oh...you weren't listening...”

Oddly, in that moment, Oliver had the sudden urge to wrap his arms around Barry in apology. He resisted, of course, because he realized that it didn't make any sense to do so.

They both stood there, frozen for a while, an awkward silence settling between them. Oliver watched Barry shift the weight on his feet, looking as if he was considering something. Finally, Barry raised a hand to his neck and rubbed at it, giving Oliver a sheepish smile.

“Well, I...I should probably check up on Felicity,” Barry said, mumbling his excuse. “See what she thinks of the results I brought in...”

“Okay...” Oliver responded, voice a bit gravelly. “Sounds good.”

When Barry turned his back, Oliver found himself start to reach for Barry's arm, but stopped himself mid-motion. He made a fist, then brought his hand back down to his side and grimaced.

“ _Shit_...” Oliver cursed softly under his breath, not entirely sure why he felt so irritated.

It would take a conversation with Diggle and a series of annoying pep talks from Roy before he'd finally understand. Once he did, Oliver lost his consistency and kept bouncing between his stubborn phase and desire to accept his feelings for what they were.

Being the daredevil that he could be at times, Oliver found himself occasionally playing a dangerous game. Sometimes he'd let himself get a little too close; hover behind Barry when the two of them were alone, pretending he was observing whatever the younger man was working on over his shoulder. Sometimes Barry was aware of his presence and Oliver would notice the brunette's shoulders tense. Other times, Oliver succeeded in completely startling him. Like when Barry would ask him a question and then practically jump out of his skin upon turning his head and finding Oliver's face so close to his own. The older man found that he liked when the younger man blushed; enjoyed when Barry stammered.

Then an interesting thing happened. At some point—even Oliver didn't know exactly when—he broke the touch barrier. If Oliver felt like anyone was to blame for that though, he would have to blame Roy.

The first time he'd noticed it, though probably not the first time it'd ever happened, the pair of them had been eating some sandwiches in the foundry. Barry had been intently reading over some report Felicity had given him earlier in the day, and Oliver was trying his hardest not to stare. Barry got a bit of mustard on his face at about the same time he realized Oliver was looking at him, and the younger man raised an eyebrow.

“...something on my face?” he asked.

Oliver felt the muscles in his face ripple as the expression he wore shifted several times; ironic was the question and convenient was the timing. The waver in his tone almost gave him away.

“Yes, actually...” Oliver said as he reached out a hand, cupping it around the side of the speedster's face.

The older man's lips quirked slightly at the corners when Barry froze and sucked in a short breath. Oliver gently wiped the mustard away with his thumb before pulling away his hand. He noted the way Barry's cheeks dusted pink as he gave the older man a look that seemed happy, but also soft and unsure. And that's when it hit Oliver like lightning. Barry was _radiant_. Everything about him was so bright and so warm, Oliver thought, that the younger man might as well be the sun.

For a while they sat there staring at each other as if entranced, unmoving and mostly quiet, save for the sound of their light breathing. Then Felicity bounded into the room with a small stack of papers and the moment was instantly broken.

“Barry!” the blonde said, with a bit of a sing-song to her voice. “Would you mind providing a second opinion on these results? I— _oh_...”

Felicity stopped in her tracks and looked between the two men, brows knitting together slightly as she assessed the situation. “Am I...interrupting something? Oh god, I _am_ , aren't I? I'm so sorry! I'll just—”

She stopped mid-sentence again when Barry pushed himself off his seat, causing a scratching noise as the legs of the stool he'd been sitting on scraped against the floor. He cleared his throat as he set the unfinished half of his sandwich down on its wrapper. Barry then looked at Felicity with raised brows.

“Nah, it's cool, Felicity,” he said, picking up a napkin and wiping his hands with it. “Something else you want me to check over? Here, let me take a look at it.”

“Oh...! Um, okay...!” Felicity said, glancing in Oliver's direction. “You're sure?”

To this, Oliver just half-smiled and gave her a small, one-shoulder shrug before taking his food and walking off. The older man swore he could feel someone's gaze burning his backside, but Oliver refused to turn back around and confirm his suspicions.

He found himself dancing around with Barry a little bit after that. Sometimes they'd accidentally brush hands. Other times, Oliver would allow his touch to linger, just for a moment, beyond what was actually necessary. If Barry even had an inkling of what the other man was doing, he didn't show it.

Then came the breaking point. One neither of them planned for, though in hindsight, they should have probably anticipated.

To this day, Oliver didn't know why he'd done it; only that he couldn't help himself. He was supposed to only meet Roy at a warehouse for some training. However, the night before, as he was getting into bed, something possessed Oliver to pick up his phone from his dresser and make one last call. Truthfully, he had expected voice mail, and had been rather surprised when the pleasantly familiar voice answered. Oliver hadn't expected that, and had no legitimate reason for calling. His original plan had been to simply hang up if no one answered the call.

“ _Oliver...?”_ Barry asked him, voice sounding a mixture of concern and confusion. _“Everything all right with you?”_

“... _yes_ ,” Oliver said, after a very brief pause.

He heard Barry take in a breath. _“Oh. Then...?”_

“ _Listen_...” Oliver said, sitting down on the edge of his bed, closing his eyes and rubbing his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “Tomorrow...”

“ _...tomorrow?”_

“Yeah, I...are you available?” Oliver felt himself cringe a little when Barry didn't respond. “Because I was thinking maybe we could...do some training...or something.”

After another second of silence, Oliver was about to retract his offer and mumble some apology when Barry's voice cut through. _“_ _Sure.”_

Oliver flicked out his tongue and moistened his lower lip. “Yeah?”

“ _Yeah, I'm free,”_ Barry said. _“Sorry...it took me a second. I had to, y'know...check my calendar. Make sure nothing was going on for me here in Central.”_

“Right,” said Oliver.

“ _So where is it?”_

“Hm?” Oliver asked. “Where is what?”

“ _Where you want us to meet?”_ said Barry. _“For um...training?”_

“Oh. Right. Yeah, that's...” Oliver said, mentally cursing himself for how awkward he sounded. “I'll uh...text you the coordinates.”

“ _Cool,”_ said Barry. _“What time should I...?”_

“I was thinking around seven,” said Oliver. “Is that okay with you?”

“ _All right by me,”_ said Barry. _“I'll see you there.”_

“Yes,” Oliver agreed, then paused before adding. “...you have a good night, Barry.”

He wasn't sure he felt comfortable with the way he felt his heart flutter when Barry's soft laughter filtered through. _“_ _You too, Ollie.”_

Oliver didn't really remember getting that much sleep, and most of the next day went by fairly quickly after that. Before he knew it, it was just a quarter to seven and he was waiting at the warehouse. He felt the corners of his lips twitch slightly upward upon feeling a familiar gust of wind whoosh in behind him. Oliver slowly turned.

“Oh, good,” Barry said, clearly relieved. “You're wearing your uniform too. I was afraid I'd be overdressed...”

The older man quirked an amused eyebrow as he stepped forward. “Not exactly sure I'd classify what we wear as uniforms...”

“...or superhero costumes,” Barry quickly amended, eliciting a small chuckle from Oliver. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” Oliver said, all ready with his bow and aiming an arrow straight at Barry.

“Whoa, whoa...!” Barry said, throwing up his hands, eyes widening as he took a couple steps back. “That's it? No warmups? We're just going to start, just like that?”

“No warnings on the actual battlefield, kid,” the older man responded with a slight smirk. “But all right. I'll be nice. I'll give you just one warning.”

“Aw, c'mon...!”

“Now,” said Oliver, as he pulled back his bowstring. “ _Run._ ”

“ _Ugh!_ ” Barry groaned and zipped away just in the nick of time, before the arrow could meet its target. “You suck!”

Oliver couldn't help but to laugh. “Didn't you learn anything from last time?”

“Well, _ye_ _ah_ ,” Barry said as he whizzed around, dodging each of the arrows Oliver fired at him nimbly. “But still, I thought...you know what? Never mind. Take _this_...!”

The speedster charged forward, but Oliver had luckily anticipated his movement. Shortly thereafter, they somehow ended up tousling on the ground, with Oliver eventually coming out on top. Both men were out of breath, and when Barry tried to rise, Oliver smacked him back down. They remained like that for a moment, gazes locked and both rasping for air. Oliver noted the rosiness developing in Barry's cheeks and the way the younger man's brows knit together in confusion.

“I...uh...Ollie?” Barry asked with a tone of uncertainty.

In the back of Oliver's mind, a voice screamed at him to back off and walk away. The thing was, Oliver discovered that he was fine to be done with listening to that voice, and shook his head.

“Well, _fuck it_...!” the older man muttered before leaning forward and smashing their lips together.

Barry tensed and let out a surprised yelp at first, but the speedster quickly relaxed beneath Oliver and surprised the older man by kissing back with equal fervor. It seemed like forever before the two of them broke apart, and when they did, they were both as breathless as they'd been at the start. Oliver let out a low growl when Barry unconsciously bit part of his lip.

“Holy shit...” Barry whispered. “That was...”

“A mistake,” Oliver said, quickly retreating and running a hand over his head. “ _Shit_ , Barry. I'm sorry. I lost control. I don't know why I—”

“Whoa, hey, _wait_...!” Barry said as he gripped Oliver's arm to stop the older man from leaving. “ _Ollie_...”

Oliver stopped and looked back at the speedster, who pulled back his mask with his free hand. It took everything Oliver had not to ravage those lips again. He shook his head.

“Let's not go down this road, kid.”

“Bit late for that now, isn't it?” Barry asked with a slight frown. “Why'd you kiss me?”

“...why does anyone kiss anyone?” Oliver said, stubbornly averting his gaze.

Barry made a frustrated sound. “That doesn't answer the question.”

“Well, why do you want to know the answer?” Oliver asked back with an even tone, forcing himself to look at the speedster again.

Barry's shoulder's slumped a little, and he slowly loosened his grip on Oliver's arm, gently gliding his hand down Oliver's wrist.

“ _Because_ , I...I didn't hate it,” he said softly.

Oliver didn't retract his hand, even when Barry's fingertips rested at the base of his palm. He clenched and relaxed his jaw.

“I've just...wanted to,” Oliver found himself somewhat reluctantly admitting. “For quite some time now.”

Barry shook his head. “Then why were you trying to run away from me?”

Oliver sighed. “I didn't think my feelings were reciprocated.”

“ _Bullshit_ ,” said Barry. “I kissed you back. So what's the real reason...? Tell me.”

“You're too young to know what exactly it is you want, kid,” said Oliver. “You're better off not getting involved with someone like me.”

“Are you kidding me? You're going to play the danger line?” Barry asked with a frown. “Seriously? Of all the clichés...”

“It's not a cliché if it's true, Barry,” Oliver said tightly.

“Ollie, I fight _metahumans_ for a living. Individuals that can't always be finished off with just your bow and arrow. Hell, I _am_ one...! If there's anyone who can appreciate the type of work it is that we do—”

“But you're not a killer, Barry,” Oliver said, as if that explained everything. “You're far more noble than that.”

Barry's expression softened. “Oh, Oliver...”

The older man finally slipped his hand from the speedster's. “You deserve better than what I can offer.”

He then turned and began to walk off; however, he was stopped in his tracks when a rush of wind flew past him and then suddenly, there Barry was, right in front of him again. Oliver shook his head.

“What...?”

“ _Really?_ ” Barry asked, cocking his head to one side. “You're going to try and run from the fastest man in the world?”

“I was...walking,” Oliver corrected.

“Whatever, that's not the point,” Barry said, closing the small gap between them. “The point is...if you didn't want me to know about your feelings for me, then you shouldn't have told me. _And_ , if you didn't want to accept mine for you, well...then you shouldn't have kissed me.”

Then Barry surprised Oliver with a moment of boldness and crushed their lips together once more. Oliver, in yet another moment of weakness, wrapped his arms around Barry and allowed himself the indulgence. The Vigilante couldn't help growling with approval when Barry moaned into his mouth. When they at last broke apart, Oliver pressed his forehead against Barry's. They were both breathing heavily, eyes still closed. Oliver brought up his hands and cupped them around Barry's face, running his thumbs gently across the younger man's cheeks.

“Stop trying to do everything on your own, Ollie...” Barry whispered softly. “Quit closing yourself off from everything.”

When Oliver opened his eyes, he found himself staring straight into the speedster's green depths. His mouth opened and closed several times as he tried to decide what he actually wanted to say. In another situation, he might have laughed, the way his brain ran through the list of lines he used to use in his playboy days, to turn off and deter the most persistent of paramours. He knew though, with growing certainty, that none of them would work on Barry. Knowing well enough when it was right time to throw in the towel, the Vigilante finally came to terms with and accepted his defeat.

“Tomorrow night, after work,” said Oliver. “Let me take you out to dinner.”

His heart warmed at the way the younger man beamed at him. “Should I meet you back here, in Starling?”

“We'll go someplace nice, in Central,” said Oliver. “I'll come get you.”

“Okay,” Barry said with a nod. “Time?”

“How about five-thirty?”

“Sounds good to me,” Barry said with a grin. “Don't be late, Mr. Queen.”

Oliver couldn't help but to chuckle. “Wouldn't dream of it.”

“Good.”

Then Barry dashed away and the rest was history. As the relationship between them slowly progressed, Oliver found himself wondering why he'd been so afraid of commitment in the first place. He'd also later wonder why the two of them ever bothered to attempt keeping the whole thing under wraps; they were both a little to clumsy for that. Before long, Oliver found himself ready to pick out rings, for both the engagement and the wedding.

If asked, Oliver didn't know which he had found the more nerve-wracking ordeal. The chance that Barry could crush his heart during the proposal, or the day of the actual wedding. Even though he was certain that Barry returned his love and affection, Oliver always felt that tiny nagging sense of doubt, for at either point, rejection would have utterly destroyed him without reasonable means of recovery, not to mention nothing good ever seemed to really last for him. His previous conquests would have probably laughed, if they had seen just how insecure the younger man actually made him.

It didn't become real for Oliver until he held Barry's hands in his, they exchanged rings and vows, and then sealed their marriage with a kiss. When they broke apart, Oliver couldn't suppress his giddiness, and his lips curved into a bright smile, complete with teeth.

The world around them faded, and Oliver took hold of Barry by the hand and rushed them down the aisle together. Laughing, they ran outside and towards a pearly white limo, and Oliver reached out to open the door for Barry before following the younger man inside. If it hadn't been for the fact that Barry wanted to spend some time with his father at the reception, they probably never would have made it there. Since then, there wasn't a day that had gone by where Oliver didn't consider himself the luckiest man in the universe.

The adjustment from dating to married life went a little less awkward than either of them had imagined. In fact, they were both surprised by how seamless their transition had been. There was no bickering about differing work schedules, because they were already aware of what those were—erratic—and sometimes they even still worked together, depending on the mission. Barry pretty much took care of all the chores, because he could do them all ten times over, effortlessly and in record time, and Oliver's fortune easily took care of all the necessary expenditures. They spent as much quality time together as they could, and really, there wasn't too much for them to get used to aside from the fact that when they came home after a long day, it was to each other.

They developed marital rituals, of course. Barry always had the habit of rising first and making them breakfast, something that Oliver once teased that he would regret doing someday, because now that the younger man had started the habit, the older would always be expecting it. The Vigilante had shut up rather quickly about that, however, when the speedster had deadpanned that Oliver was absolutely wrong and should feel ashamed for even suggesting such a thing.

Since they'd chosen a place in Starling City—at Barry's insistence, because he'd rather they lived in an area populated by criminals using more traditional means of weaponry than use of supernatural powers, if only for his peace of mind that Oliver could handle his own—the older man was often the first one to arrive home. At some point, he had begun taking his place on their living room couch, watching the news for Barry or reading a book on the more quiet days—when he knew the only work the younger man had to do was at the precinct—and waiting up for him.

On one of these days, as it sometimes happened, Barry came home extremely late in the day, just a little before sunrise. Oliver didn't know when he had fallen asleep, but he was glad when the younger man's clumsiness startled him awake, even if it had taken a few seconds to get over his surprise. They'd gotten to talking, and Oliver listened as he allowed Barry to ramble on about the details of his day.

There was one point in the conversation that had caused Oliver to frown. Barry seemed upset about something regarding Dr. Wells, but hadn't wanted to elaborate. The older man chose not to press, but he did decide to tuck that information away to inquire about again sometime later.

Eventually, their conversation dwindled down to a lull, and Oliver cherished the silence, running a hand lovingly through the younger man's hair. Finally, in a moment that seemed most appropriate, Oliver whispered a heartfelt declaration of his love.

Sunlight sifted through the curtains, casting an aura around his husband in a way that was absolutely perfect as Oliver felt the younger man grip at a portion of his hooded sweater and slowly lift his head. The soft smile Barry gave him warmed the older man's heart, and Oliver couldn't help but to feel as if his breath were taken away by the very sight of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Trying to figure out what, if anything, I can write about these boys next. If anyone has any prompt requests, feel free to drop me a line in the comments, and I'll most certainly see what I can do! Thank you for those who left such kind words, it was a pleasure interacting with you, and I hope to see you all again on future stories! Perhaps we may even meet again once I revert back to my main account. (Now wouldn't that be funny? XD)


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